Faces of Evil [1] Obsession

by Debra Webb

  Now she was the one pissed off. “You mean those principles that allowed you to fuck me that night after the shooting?”

  He said nothing. Took the fifth, apparently. Lori shook her head and turned her attention back to the passing landscape. She resisted the urge to rotate her shoulder. The ache wasn’t real. The injury had been nothing more than a nick. The bullet had grazed her upper arm, a little rip to the deltoid muscle. A few stitches. An ugly bandage. Not a big deal. Except the shot had been meant for Harper. She’d thrown her whole body at him to get him out of the way. It wasn’t like she’d had a snowball’s chance in hell of moving the guy otherwise.

  After the perp was in custody, Harper had insisted on staying with her at the ER and then driving her home. Things had gotten out of control from the moment he walked her to her door.

  Lori banished the memories.

  He made the turn onto Montclair Road. “I think your memory is a little foggy.” His wide, strong hands maneuvered the vehicle with the same ease and precision that he had guided her that night. “I fucked you that night because we both wanted it.”

  That was such a guy excuse. But he was right. Damn. She closed her eyes and blocked the images. Six months and he still made her throb with need just being this close, listening to his voice, smelling that subtle sexy aroma that was as much him as the Kenneth Cole Reaction he wore. She’d even bought a bottle the last time she was at Sak’s. She sprayed it on her sheets sometimes. But she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that every time they were this close she wanted to rip off his clothes.

  “I still want you.”

  Lori crossed her legs and checked the calendar on her phone. She would die before she let him pick up on the full extent of the power he wielded over her with nothing more than his presence.

  “Annette Denton shouldn’t take long.” When Lori had made the appointment the chief and Harris were scheduled to conduct the interview. She hoped the chief’s ex wouldn’t have a problem with the change.

  “We can catch the Yorks before lunch and then dig into that long list of extended family and friends,” he offered.

  She should appreciate that he had moved on from the subject of their one-night stand, but somehow she resented that, too.

  “Looks like the husband is home,” he announced as he guided the SUV into the Denton’s driveway.

  “Awesome.” Lori didn’t look forward to meeting with the man. He was arrogant and completely uncooperative. “You can talk to him. I’ll take the wife.”

  “Sounds like a female chauvinist decision to me. Because you’re a woman you get to interview the female?”

  Lori released her seat belt and reached for the door handle. She flashed Harper a big smile the way he’d done her a few minutes ago. “Don’t say you didn’t get fucked today.”

  She got out, shoved the door shut and strode up the winding walk. Harper didn’t hurry to catch up with her. Knowing him, he would say he was enjoying the view from a few paces behind her. He was a good detective but this assignment would have been a lot easier for her if someone else had been picked for the task force.

  Maybe this was the universe’s payback for allowing that night to happen.

  It would not happen again.

  The Denton home was large, stately and probably valued at about two million, even in today’s crappy real estate market. Similar homes lined the street. Two matching BMWs sat in the circular drive.

  Lori pressed the doorbell and the door opened immediately. Brandon Denton had been waiting for their arrival. He glared first at Lori, then at Harper. “Where’s Burnett?”

  Harper exchanged a glance with her to confirm she wasn’t taking this guy on. “Chief Burnett was called away, sir. Detective Wells and I will be conducting your follow-up interviews.”

  Without acknowledging the explanation, Denton stepped back for them to enter. Once inside he led the way to the great room. Annette Denton waited there. She sat on one end of the white sofa, a sea of color swirling around her in the form of lush carpets and bold walls. The chairs and sofa were stark white, an almost shocking contrast. Lori suspected that the white seating served as a canvas to display the owners of the home. Both were beautiful, dressed in lavish attire and with egos to match. How had the chief ever fallen for this woman? She could be nice but her entire existence seemed to revolve around money.

  “You’ve found something new?” Annette asked.

  “We have a new detail we need to run by you,” Lori explained. “I’m sorry to have to intrude on your morning.”

  Annette managed a small, weary smile. “Don’t apologize. I’m thankful there’s new information. I want you to find my daughter. Nothing related to the search for her is an inconvenience.”

  Mr. Denton sat down by his wife and gestured to the two chairs directly adjacent to them.

  “Does your daughter have a friend, acquaintance or relative named Tim?” Harper asked. “It could be as seemingly insignificant as someone to whom she might have run into in the course of picking up dry cleaning, stopping by the store for milk or at her favorite restaurant.”

  After due consideration, Annette shook her head. “Not a single person I can think of.”

  When Mr. Denton said nothing, Harper asked him outright. “No one named Tim that you’re aware of, sir?”

  Denton shook his head. “We supplied a complete list of her friends and family already. Burnett has this information. Why has he sent the two of you to backtrack?” He glared at his wife. “I knew we couldn’t depend on him. We should have hired that private investigator as I suggested.”

  The agony that pinched his wife’s face tugged at Lori. “Sir, I’m confident there’s nothing anyone can do that we’re not already doing.” When Denton aimed a fierce glare at her, she met it with equal intensity in her own. “Chief Burnett was able to obtain the assistance of one of the Bureau’s top profilers. She has already made great headway in broadening the scope of our investigation.” To Mrs. Denton, she added, “We will find your daughter.”

  The interview lasted a few minutes more with Lori reviewing the original interview questions. No new answers. She feared that would be the case with most on the list to be re-interviewed. If a single bit of data were gained, the effort would not be for naught.

  Harper didn’t speak as they drove away from the home. He had something on his mind. Lori could sense the frustration simmering in him. She waited. Still he said nothing.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “You made that lady a promise.” This he said without making eye contact.

  “I didn’t say we’d find her alive.” She winced at the words. God, the idea of finding one or more of those girls dead was unacceptable but the possibility grew stronger with every passing hour. They had to find them soon. Maybe she shouldn’t have given that assurance, but the families needed something to hang onto.

  “But we will find them alive.” Harper braked for a red light. She met his gaze. “I refuse to believe otherwise.”

  “Then why are you busting my chops about making that promise?” What did he want from her? And why the hell couldn’t she control herself around him?

  “Saying it to you is different from saying it to the vic’s family.”

  “Okay, okay. Point taken.” She still had a lot to learn. Lori readily admitted that. In truth, this case was the hardest, in terms of emotions, she’d been assigned. She needed it to turn out right. “You really believe we’ll find them alive?”

  “When you feel strongly enough about something,” he went on, his eyes, the sound of his voice preventing her from looking away, “you make it happen.”

  Was he answering her question about the case or talking about this personal relationship he was hell bent on initiating? She wanted to warn him that she would not be badgered into a relationship but she couldn’t do it. Whether he was talking about the case or about them, his words weren’t prompted by his male ego…he meant what he said and what he said came from his heart.


  Lori was in serious trouble.

  Chapter Nine

  Tuscaloosa, Noon

  Jess surveyed the mobile home court as Dan rapped on the door of the small trailer rented by Kelli Moran. Judging by the shabby landscaping and state of disrepair of the manufactured homes lining the one narrow drive, Shady Court lived up to the boast on its welcome sign proclaiming date of establishment as 1968. She doubted luxury living was the motive for life at Shady Court. According to Dan, the number of drug busts among the dozen or so rentals was matched only by the domestic disputes calls.

  In jarring contrast, many of the vehicles nestled close to the small porches and stoops were undeniably high-end. The mark of dirty money. Kelli Moran, on the other hand, drove a VW Bug. Not the resurrected version of the 90’s, but an original, ironically from the 60’s. A rusty yellow with a license plate registered to her and this address. According to Reanne’s supervisor at the sandwich shop, Kelli was her closest friend.

  “She’s got to be here,” Jess argued when Dan sent her a doubtful look. “Her manager said she wasn’t scheduled to work today and her car is right there.” Jess pulled off her sunglasses and swabbed at the perspiration threatening to drip down her forehead. She had spent far too many years in the northeast to acclimate to this heat.

  Dan knocked again.

  A minute passed, every confounded second ticking off in her head. Jess rolled her eyes. Enough waiting. She marched up to the door and banged like she meant it, not that polite knock Dan had employed.

  “Miss Moran, I know you’re in there. We need to speak to you.”

  A door opened across the lane and a head poked out. One look and the guy quickly snatched his head back inside and slammed the door.

  Still no answer at the Moran home.

  “If she’s here,” Dan suggested, “she’s not inclined to chat.”

  “That’s so strange. Why would anyone not look forward to chatting with the two of us?” Jess shrugged and dropped her arms back to her sides. One hand just happened to land on the doorknob which she accidentally turned. The door opened, making her step back since it swung outward. She turned to Dan. “Oops.”

  “Jess,” he warned.

  Ignoring his caution and since no shots were fired, Jess stuck her head inside. “Miss Moran! I need to speak to you about your friend, Reanne. We know about Tim. If you talk to us now we won’t have to press charges against you for obstruction of justice.”

  She surveyed the cluttered living room, listened for any sound in the rooms beyond. Looking wasn’t necessary to know that Dan would be barely containing his frustration at her tactics.

  Walking through the door would constitute entering the premises without the proper court order. She had that one down pat.

  What had possessed her to tell him the whole story…that her career was over? He’d caught her at a weak moment. Now she could feel all that sympathy oozing from his every pore. She did not want his sympathy.

  Or anything else.

  Too bad that assertion fell way short of providing any confidence in her ability to be that strong.

  “She’s not coming to the door, Jess.”

  Jess would just see about that. “Okay. I guess we’ll have to take the next step and get a warrant. It would be so much better if you spoke to us voluntarily.”

  One turn and two strides, Jess hadn’t even made it to the steps of the rickety old porch when the reaction she’d hoped for materialized.

  “I don’t know anything. I told that to the cops already.”

  Jess turned back to the door and produced a smile for the young woman. “Hello, Miss Moran, I’m Agent Harris and this is Chief Burnett.” Dan had moved up behind her. “We’d like a few minutes of your time.”

  The girl shook her dark head. “I don’t know what good it’ll do.”

  She walked over and collapsed on one end of the battered sofa. Her clothes were rumpled as if she’d slept in them. The holes in her jeans revealed a knee and a splash of thigh. Her black t-shirt sported the logo of the sandwich shop where she worked. Bare feet sported black toenails, which matched her fingernails as well as the heavy eye makeup. Ears, nose and eyebrows were pierced. Probably the tongue, too.

  “Well,” Jess offered, still standing on the outside of the threshold, “Kelli. May I call you Kelli?”

  “Whatev.”

  “Kelli, thankfully we won’t need that warrant, but we’re sort of like vampires. We need an invitation to come inside.” Behind her, Dan cleared his throat. If Patterson complained about their efforts, at least they could say Kelli Moran issued an invitation.

  Kelli rolled her eyes. “Come in.” She waved her arm. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you.” Jess took the other end of the sofa. Dan sat on the edge of the armchair. He looked like a high-class lawyer from one of those sexy television series. She’d almost told him this morning how flattering the suit was. Another elegant one, apparently tailored just for him and in a cool gray that made his dark hair and blue eyes even more distinct. Which was an idiotic and senseless observation. Proof positive that she had not regained her professional equilibrium. Or her emotional one.

  “Your friend, Reanne Parsons…,” Jess began, surprised Dan was letting her lead. Maybe that took the heat off him with Patterson. “…is still missing.”

  “Yeah,” she commented, too busy studying the chipped paint on her fingernails to look up, “I saw that on the news.”

  “We found her cell phone.”

  Kelli’s fingers stalled but she didn’t look up.

  “The day she disappeared,” Jess continued, “she exchanged text messages with her boyfriend, Tim.”

  Kelli glanced at Dan then resumed her rudimentary manicure. “Reanne didn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Maybe she and Tim were just friends.”

  Kelli shrugged. “No clue.”

  Jess and Dan exchanged a look that indicated he agreed with her assessment. Kelli Moran was afraid to talk. She had no arrest record. Though she had dropped out of high school, she had a reliable work record and had supported herself since. Which explained her lack of taste in housing. She wasn’t afraid of the police; that came across loud and clear in her attitude. But she was afraid of something.

  “Kelli, I know Reanne confided in you. And we need your help. She may be in danger.”

  Another covert peek at Dan. “I’ll tell you what I know.” She lifted her gaze to Jess. “Just you. I’m not talking in front of officer friendly.”

  Jess looked to Dan. He stood. But before excusing himself, he asked, “Miss Moran, are you here alone?”

  She gave him a dramatic eye roll. “Whenever I’m not at work, I’m here alone. Guys don’t know how to appreciate a smart, independent chick like me.”

  “You won’t mind if I confirm that before I go outside?”

  Jess clamped her jaw shut rather than say the words poised on the tip of her tongue. She could take care of herself. This is what happened when a female member of law enforcement showed the slightest hint of weakness. Suddenly she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself. She shouldn’t have told him. Damn it.

  “Have at it,” Kelli authorized.

  Jess waited, her pulse jumping with anticipation, as Dan did the protector thing.

  Finally, he paused at the front door. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “Thank you, chief.” Jess forced a smile even as she threatened his ability to continue breathing with her eyes. When he was out the door, Jess turned her attention back to Reanne’s friend.

  “You cannot tell her folks,” Kelli pleaded, the obnoxious attitude gone. “There’s no telling what they would do. She does not want them to find her. She’s nineteen, she has that right.”

  Having that conclusion confirmed set Reanne apart from the others but did nothing to solve this case. Not what Jess had hoped for. “Can you tell me about Tim? How he and Reanne began their relationship?”

  “First,” Kelli leaned toward Jess as if
she didn’t want to talk above a whisper, “you need to know that Reanne was desperate to get away from her folks. Her mom and dad are crazy strict.”

  Obviously the girl hadn’t watched the morning or noon news. “Did she say she wanted to get away from her parents?”

  Kelli nodded. “She loves them but they go too far with the religious gig. She’d had enough. Reanne wants her own life. After she started talking to Tim, she was happy for like the first time in her life.”

  “How did she and Tim meet?” Jess wanted her to believe they knew Tim’s identity, in an effort to hopefully get as much of the truth as possible. What they learned from this young woman could make the difference in how this case moved forward.

  “It was wild.” She smiled, looked away as if to hide the expression.

  When she smiled, the dark, brooding girl was very pretty. Jess wondered if she realized how attractive she was. “How do you mean?”

  “She got notes at work for weeks. From a secret admirer. The envelopes would be on a table or on the counter. Reanne would be written across the front. It was super exciting for her. Finally, he gave her his number. Reanne bought one of those prepaid phones so they could text. His parents are weird, too, so they couldn’t talk talk. They had to text. His folks hovered over him worse than Reanne’s.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, he warned her to never call. His parents wouldn’t understand the texts but a call would be different.”

  Jess could appreciate that. She couldn’t decipher text language either. “How long have they been communicating?” Apparently she had been right to assume the two hadn’t met in person…at least not until the day Reanne disappeared.

  “Nearly two months.”

  “But she never shared his last name or address with you?”

  Kelli shook her head. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t know anything but his first name. Putting that kind of info in a note or text was too risky. Their plan depended on careful preparation.”

  “Their escape plan?” Jess suggested.

  Kelli nodded. “They planned it down to the minute.”